


To Live Again

by wth_am_i_writing



Series: PADoll Fics [2]
Category: VIXX
Genre: Age Difference, Alcohol, Androids, Angst, Dead Characters, F/M, Mild Smut, Minor Violence, Moving On, POV Second Person, Robots, Sexual Situations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-29
Updated: 2018-12-29
Packaged: 2019-09-27 07:12:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17157584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wth_am_i_writing/pseuds/wth_am_i_writing
Summary: It was hard to pick yourself back up, but Hongbin was certainly helping you along.





	To Live Again

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on Tumblr on October 17, 2014.
> 
> Original Author’s Note: The long awaited PADoll fic! Seriously, I hope you guys didn’t get you hopes up in terms of plot and angst quality. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to match “Thank You” again in terms of that stuff. Still, I’m rather satisfied with this piece. It’s been months in the making and I’m glad to finally have it done. When I started writing it, I actually wrote it with the purpose of it making “Thank You" even sadder by showing the reader how a PADoll is supposed to be treated. Conversely, "Thank You” should make a few scenes in this fic sadder as well. They’re not set in the same universe, but the set up of PADolls is the same. Anyway, despite this not being as impactful as “Thank You”, I hope you guys enjoy this!

PADoll Model CX-902 Custom Make. Refurbished. Two previous owners. Unit age 28 months. Cost: 14,000,000 Won.

Deep black eyes, a strong jaw line, side swept brunet hair, broad shoulders, small hips, 181 centimeters tall. He stood still in the display, occasionally blinking. He was a bit old, was previously owned, and cost more than you should have been spending on such a toy, but he was perfect. A custom make unit being sold for 14,000,000 Won was a bargain you couldn’t pass up, especially since his features were so artfully crafted. You didn’t _care_ that the VX-9082 would be out in a few weeks, _this_ CX-902 was the one you wanted.

“Excuse me,” you called, flagging down a saleswoman. “I’ll take this one,” you said. She looked at the doll for a moment.

“You wouldn’t like to place an order for the VX-9082? They’re less expensive and have personality templates,” she asked.

“No, this one’s the one I want,” you insisted, shaking your head.

“Alright, then let’s go finalize the purchase,” the saleswoman said with a slight bow. You followed her to a counter in another part of the store to fill out the score of papers setting up a payment plan and finalizing the purchase. She pulled out a briefcase and opened it, turning it towards you to explain the various components inside: manual, connector cables, and charge tower. She closed the briefcase and slid it across the table to you.

Briefcase in hand and several million Won more in debt, you stood up and returned to the display where your new purchase stood. Staring up into his blank eyes, you suddenly felt nervous. The very fact that you were actually going through with this impulse buy was crazy. But the papers were signed and it was too late to change your mind. With a deep breath you held your hand out to the PADoll and smiled as his eyes focused on you.

“Let’s go home,” you said as confidently as you could. He smiled and your breath hitched. It was bright and angelic, wide and dimpled. Taking your hand, he spoke.

“Thank you for choosing me. Let’s go home.” Deep and smooth, his voice was almost indistinguishable from a human’s save for it’s relatively flat quality. He stepped down from his display pedestal, coming around to your side and waiting for you to lead him home.

-.-.-.-.-

Letting the door swing open to the apartment, you shuffled the PADoll inside. He looked around, moving his head slightly as he took everything in. You closed the door with a nervous sigh and moved around him. You slipped your shoes off and stepped out of the entranceway, reaching for his hand again. He looked down at your feet and slipped his shoes off before taking your hand and following you further inside. You took him to the low table at the center of the living room.

“This is your new home,” you said looking around the room, chest tightening up. You pushed the feeling to the side the best you could and turned back to the PADoll still holding your hand. “And I’m your new owner.” He smiled, releasing your hand and stepping back slightly. Bowing, he began to speak.

“It’s good to be home. I am a CX-902 model Personal Assistant Doll, also known as PADoll. Would you please give me a name?” You straightened, breath hitching as you looked him up and down. You hesitated, even though you’d already decided what you were going to name him on the way home.

“Hongbin,” you finally managed to blurt out. “Your name is Hongbin.” His angelic dimpled smile became open mouth and he bowed low.

“My name is Hongbin. Thank you for giving me a name,” he said upon coming back up. “Would you like me to address you in a certain way?” You smiled softly, telling him your name.

“But Mistress is fine,” you added.

“Mistress, I’m in your care.” He bowed again. “Everyday will be brighter together,” he said as he straightened up.

“I certainly hope it’ll be,” you murmured, sighing as you glanced around the room. “I should show you around.”

“I would like that very much, Mistress,” Hongbin said, smile still present. You took his hand and squeezed it.

“This is the living room, of course,” you laughed nervously, setting down the briefcase of his accessories to motion to the room. He nodded, looking around briefly. Tugging his hand gently, you lead him to the kitchen, bathroom, shower room, and laundry room, pausing in front of a door at the end of the hallway. You took a deep breath, not really wanting to open the door. Hongbin tilted his head to the side as he looked at you, the neutral expression he wore in the store having returned a while ago. Taking a breath, you collected yourself.

“This is my late husband’s office,” you admitted, voice more unstable than you liked, feelings and memories washing over you. But you pushed everything out of your thoughts. You didn’t want to dwell on the matter anymore. “I don’t really go in there, so don’t worry about this room,” you explained, eyes focused on the knob.  You pulled back from the door and dragged Hongbin down the hall.

“This is my bedroom,” you announced, opening the door for him to look in. You then moved to the room next door. “And this will be your room.” You opened the door and let him in first. He looked around silently for a moment before turning to you and smiling.

“Thank you, Mistress.”

“Don’t thank me,” you said, stepping into the room and looking around. You were giving him a room of his own more out your own awkwardness towards sharing a bed than anything else. The shelves in the corner caught your eyes, dust covered and full of your late husband’s belongings and photos. Hongbin approached the shelves, probably noticing how your gaze lingered there, and picked up a framed photo. You swallowed, shifting your weight as you watched him stare at the photo. Unable to stay back, you took long strides over to him and peered around him to see the picture.

“My late husband, Wonsik,” you murmured in explanation.

“Mr. Wonsik,” Hongbin repeated, still staring at the photo. You took the photo from his hand and gently wiped the dust off it. It was one of your favorites, from your second wedding anniversary. The sweet smile on his lips and childish mirth in his eyes belied his actual age. He’d never _completely_ grown up, or maybe he decided to embrace his inner child after he met you. He was more than twice your age, but you’d never felt the age gap.

“He died almost a year and a half ago in a car accident,” you mumbled before placing his picture back on the shelf. Hongbin turned his attention to another photograph, picking it up and cradling it gently in his hands. Upon realizing who the photo was of, you sighed. “That’s his son from his first marriage,” you explained stepping away.

“What’s his name?” Hongbin asked, the photo frame clunking back on the shelf as he put it back.

“Hyuk,” you said through a clenched jaw. “I doubt you’ll ever meet him, we don’t get along.”

“Mr. Hyuk,” Hongbin repeated. You moved back to the center of the room, looking around, arms crossed over your chest. It’d been months since you’d been in there. “Do you have any children?” You snapped your head in his direction, caught off guard. The question was asked innocently and he had a blank expression on his face as he waited for you to answer. “I can help watch them.”

“No,” you bit out coldly, much colder than you’d meant it to be. “No,” you repeated softer, forcing yourself to relax. “We didn’t have any kids,” you specified, a sad smile flitting across your lips as Hongbin blinked at you. Your miscarriage from just after the wedding came to mind, the way Wonsik had squeezed your hand when the ultrasound technician told you they still couldn’t find a heartbeat, that the fetus had gotten smaller, imprinted painfully in your mind.

You shifted on your feet again, pushing the memory as far out of your mind as you could. This room was filled with too many sad memories. The whole apartment was, but this room and his office were especially hard to go into. Struggling to push everything down and not let your grief at your loss overwhelm you, you shifted your weight again.

“Let’s go back to the living room,” you said, backing out of the room.

“Yes, Mistress,” Hongbin said, following you.

-.-.-.-.-

You sat on the floor as you flipped through the CX-902 manual, Hongbin beside you. You’d been slowly working through the suggested check list to learn the basics about your PADoll. You’d gone over most of his body, uncovering the different panels. You’d always been amazed by the PADolls that Wonsik’s friends had, by how sophisticated their social actions had been during the short times you’d seen them. But they were older female models, quite a bit different from Hongbin beside you.

Still, his skin was soft, and his muscles were firm to the touch, much like real ones. He was actually quite thin, much thinner than you’d thought he’d be. His clothing had hidden it well, though it wasn’t like his frame was purposely obscured. His proportions were quite different from the standard CX-902, his short legs and long torso a far cry from the balanced-long-legged preference most people held. It was attractive never the less, but left you wondering if he’d been modeled after a real person. There was no doubt in your mind that he was initially extremely expensive, making him an even better bargain than you’d first thought. But his expense left you wondering why anyone would have given him up in the first place.

Despite his outward appearance, he was still a CX-902, and though some panels weren’t exactly where the manual said they were, it was pretty obvious he was internally the same as every other model of his generation. He sat still, blankly following your hands as you pushed and prodded at his body, remaining silent and letting you do as you pleased.

His capabilities were impressive, and you had a lot to study in order to keep him running smoothly. He could help clean around the house, but you really didn’t feel the need to put him to work when there wasn’t much that had to be done. Jobless as you were, and just being the two of you, there wasn’t much to do on a regular basis besides cook, washing dishes and laundry, and you needed _something_ to do as well. So rather than focusing on household tasks to give him, you spent your time figuring out his technical aspects.

When you got to the pages on energy consumption, energy use reduction and battery recharging, you pulled out his charge tower. The batteries that ran PADolls required a large amount of energy to charge. As a way of countering large electricity bills, the charge tower had built in solar panels that collected and stored energy between charges to use along side socket electricity. That was one chore you could give Hongbin, you decided and you pieced the tower together.

“Hongbin,” you addressed him. He perked up, turning to look at your face instead of your hands.

“Yes Mistress?”

“I’m going to put your charge tower in your room, but this needs to be in the sun, so can you make sure you open the curtains and pull up the blinds in your window every morning and then close them when the sun goes down?”

“Yes, Mistress, I can do that. But how do I pull open the blinds?” You sighed, putting the last pieces of the tower together.

“I suppose I _do_ need to teach you how to do that, don’t I?” you muttered as you stood up, more to yourself than to Hongbin. “Carry that for me, please? I’ll show you now.”

“Yes, Mistress,” Hongbin said, getting to his feet and picking up the tower.

-.-.-.-.-.-

The pants you’d just had Hongbin put on slid down his hips, not stopping until they reached his slightly spread thighs. You sighed, stepping forward and tugging them back up by the belt loop. It looked like he was too thin to wear Wonsik’s clothes, but what were you expecting? At fifty-three years old, Wonsik hadn’t been the muscular twig he’d been in his youth as a rapper and idol. Their size was different enough that Wonsik’s belts wouldn’t be of any help either, lacking enough notches to even stay on Hongbin’s hips.

“Looks like we’ll need to go shopping for clothes,” you sighed. “Go ahead and put your other pants back on. You can’t go around flashing that much skin…”

“Why?” Hongbin asked innocently, tone as even as always, letting the pants drop to the floor. You felt the heat rise in your face at the question, embarrassed that you had to explain something like that.

“Because your ass was hanging out in clear view! At least you have Ken-doll anatomy, or else that’d be a _real_ big problem in public,” you explained gesturing at his bare crotch.

“Ken-doll anatomy?” Hongbin asked, eyebrows furrowing slightly and head tilting to the side. He looked down at his crotch. “I don’t understand what that means.” It felt like your face was on fire, and you were sure that you were beet red down to your ears.

“It refers to the fact that… that you don’t have genitalia down,” you paused gesturing to his crotch, “there.” He looked up at you, brows knit together ever so slightly in a neutral expression that bordered on confused and annoyed.

“I’m not missing any genitalia,” he stated. “It’s stored internally until copulation mo—“

“I _know_ ,” you interrupted him, waving for him to stop and turning away. Mention of copulation mode made you uneasy. It wasn’t a function you’d any plans to use. The whole process of it left you uneasy.

Since most PADoll owners were rich men, considerably more effort was put into realistically replicating female genitalia—the fact that the majority of what was relevant to men was internal simplifying the design greatly. But male models posed the problem of what to do with the penis. The first male model lacked genitalia completely, and it made the news when the first “dildo customizations” hit the market, sparking a vicious debate despite the fact that the female models had always been crafted with the ability for sex. But over all, much less research had been put into the physical mechanics of PADoll penises. CX-902 being the first model to move the awkward dildos _inside_ when not being used. It was still awkward, but at least they didn’t look like they had erections all the time.

“But if you weren’t like that, it would be very inappropriate for that region to be displayed so openly,” you continued. “Just put your other pants back on.”

“You’re embarrassed?” he asked. You peeked over your shoulder at him, still feeling beet red.

“Yes.”

“It’s something to be embarrassed by?”

“Being naked or partially exposed in front of most people is _definitely_ something to be embarrassed about,” you informed him. His skin flushed ever so slightly, the neutral expression on his face melting into embarrassment as he scurried to get his pants on. The transformation was almost terrifying in its suddenness. He got his pants up and fastened with so much as fumbling and looked back at you.

“I-is this better, Mistress?” Hongbin stuttered, tone slightly higher than normal and his face still slightly flushed.

“Y-yeah,” you answered absent mindedly, still trying to process what just happened. “I’ll go get my purse and then we can leave to get clothes.”

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

“Mmm, yes, that looks good,” you smiled, pulling away from Hongbin and admiring the eyeliner you’d just put on him. In addition to buying him two week’s worth of clothing, you’d stopped by the PADoll make-up specialty store. It had been another impulse buy—Hongbin was already gorgeous without makeup—but you wanted to doll him up as much as you could and the make-up you already owned wasn’t the best for Hongbin’s silicon skin. You switched the eyeliner for semi-glossy lip gloss, making him mimic the shape of your lips and swiping it across his lips. You stepped away from him and rounded to his back, placing your hands on his shoulders as you admired him in the mirror.

“Maybe I should teach you how to put on makeup…” you mumbled to yourself, truly enjoying the sight of his made-up face. Wonsik occasionally wore make-up for himself even in his old age, turning into something you’d adored.

“You like it when I look this way?” Hongbin asked.

“Mmm, I do. But you don’t need to wear makeup everyday. Just special occasions… Maybe I’ll just do it for you myself then…”

“I like it when you do things like this with me,” he said simply.

“You like it?” you asked, caught off guard.

“I like it.”

-.-.-.-.-

“ _I’ve transferred the money you wanted put in your account for living expenses. Are you sure you don’t want to keep it in stocks and savings? It’s a nice lump of money. If you let it grow, you can use it to supplement your income even after you retire,_ ” your financial advisor, N, crackled over the phone.

He was a good friend of Wonsik and had been in charge of the portfolios for years. After Wonsik’s passing, he and Ken, co-owner of Wonsik’s record label, were the only crutch you had to lean on, helping you get the estate settled. Wonsik had left you the apartment you lived in, a third of his money (a sizable sum that would allow you to live comfortably for several years provided you worked and were thrifty) and his shares of the record label. Royalties from the music he produced would probably keep coming in for years, but Hyuk was protesting any claim you had over that money and your ownership in the record label, making things exhausting.

“Most of the money that was already in the bank is gone now that the taxes are paid, and I still need to pay off the last of the funeral costs… Not to mention Hyuk’s still haranguing me about the label, so I’d rather just put the royalties and earnings from that away instead. Things are going to get tight for a while until I can get steady work.”

“ _That’s true. Though I’m surprised you can’t get a job!  You’re barely twenty-five! It’s not like you’re a wrinkly middle aged lady._ ”

“Nobody wants to hire me for modeling. The few jobs I got were from Wonsik’s close friends, so I think they were just taking pity on me. I think I might have to give it up and find another job soon… Besides… I kinda made a big ticket impulse purchase…”

“ _That’s not like you. What did you buy?_ ”

“A PADoll. I got tired of being alone in the apartment.”

“ _You couldn’t have gotten a dog or a cat or something?_ ”

“No pets allowed in the apartment.”

“ _Right… there are cheaper things though. I don’t really understand the appeal of those PADolls. They require so much more attention and money than a pet._ ”

“But at least I have someone around the house now, it makes things a little easier,” you explained, looking over at Hongbin. He was staring straight ahead, a blank expression on his face. “Besides, he’s a bit easier to take care of than a pet. He’s pretty self-sufficient.”

“ _Right… You’ll have someone to hold conversations with now. Is he a good boy so far–Ah, dammit, I better get back to work. I have an appointment coming in ten minutes and I need to prepare,_ ” N wrapped up the conversation. You knew he’d talk longer if he could, but it was the middle of the day.

“Thanks, N. Take care.”

“ _You too. I hope you can find steady work soon._ ” You hung up the phone with a sigh, placing it on the table and slumping down. Cradling your head in your arms, you looked at Hongbin. He didn’t move except for an occasional blink of his eyes. The way he sat around all day staring into space like that must have been a strain on his mind. There really wasn’t much to do, and part of the reason you’d thought to buy a PADoll was because you were bored and alone. It would probably be best to find something to occupy his time when you had nothing to do with him.

“Maybe I should start turning on the TV for you to watch,” you mumbled. His head turned in your direction and titled, eyes focusing on you. “So you can do something besides stare into space,” you clarified for him. “Or do you think about things when you stare off like that?”

“I mostly go over the things you taught me how to do,” Hongbin answered.

“Doesn’t that get boring?” you asked. “Going over the same thing over and over again?” It wasn’t like you’d taught him to do much at all.

“Boring? I don’t know what that feels like.” The reply unsettled you, reminding you that he wasn’t a human, that he didn’t experience the same spectrum of emotions you did—or at least he didn’t at the moment. Surely overtime, his emotions would grow and vary, but right now he was just almost a blank slate.

“I’m going to put the TV on. It’ll probably be good for you, since there’s not much going on around here,” you decided, standing up and crossing to the TV. You flipped through the channels until you found one with a drama on.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Ken had called and suggested that you come into the office and have a look around the studios. You weren’t very active in the management of the record label, not really having much sense of the business beyond the short stint as part of a girl group you had a few years ago. Ken had taken over all the operations, keeping everything running smoothly. He still insisted that you come check out the artists every once in a while, though, and you usually took him up on each offer as you needed an excuse to get out of the house. Today was no different, so you got ready for the day and left Hongbin in front of the TV.

The office wasn’t far from your home, so the trip was quick and uneventful. You checked in with the reception on the first floor and headed up to where Ken’s office was. Upon entering his secretary’s office, you immediately noticed a broad shouldered man sitting in a chair in the corner, legs delicately folded and hands on his knees. He didn’t move except for his eyes, which locked onto you as soon as you entered the room. He was so still it didn’t look like he was breathing all, face neutral, but exceedingly good looking. His gaze made you uncomfortable and you quickly crossed over to the secretary’s desk. She ushered you back to Ken.

Ken smiled ear to ear when he saw you at the door, standing up and coming to hug you. He looked quite youthful despite the fact that he was Wonsik’s hyung. Wonsik, stepping out of the limelight as a performer, let himself age naturally. Ken, however, had continued being a singer, Wonsik writing and producing many of Ken’s hits. As a result, he’d taken to the knife several times to maintain his youthful looks. But inside, he was just as much a five year old as Wonsik had been when the situation didn’t require adult behavior. It was a large part of the reason they had hit it off so well professionally, you supposed.

“It’s been too _long_ ,” Ken whined, his embrace tight. “You should come out and visit more often. You don’t need to wait until I call.”

“I know, but it’s awkward…” You murmured, returning the hug. He pulled back and motioned for you to sit down. You did as he suggested, watching as he rounded his desk to sit back down. You remembered the man sitting in his secretary’s office, and couldn’t help wanting to ask about him. “Uhm, outside, is that a custom model PADoll?” Ken blinked at you for a moment, trying to figure out what you were talking about, then it looked like something clicked in his head.

“Leo?” he asked, a wide grin spreading across his lips, eyes twinkling with amusement. “No, he’s pretty human, but I can see why you’d think that. He’s a bit quiet and unresponsive, but he’s a good boy. It’s almost creepy how he can keep so still, isn’t it?” You flushed in embarrassment. Perhaps you should have taken a better look at him when you came in. “But actually, part of the reason I wanted you to come in today was because of him.”

“Really?” Ken kept his grin, picking up the phone and telling the secretary to let Leo back. After a few moments, the office door opened. Leo slipped in, head slightly bowed, and closed the door behind him.

“Leo, this is Ravi’s wife,” Ken introduced you. You moved to get up, but Leo swiftly crossed the room to shake your hand before you could fully rise. His grip was firm, and he nodded shortly before stepping back, Ken introducing him, “Leo is a new singer and composer. We actually took him on before the accident, with the intent of getting enough guys together to form a boy group, but well…” Ken trailed off, and you knew that it was because he didn’t want to openly speak about Wonsik’s death and how many of his ambitions had died with him. “Leo, go ahead and sit down.”

“Mm,” Leo acknowledged, sitting down and crossing his legs. He was intimidating in his silence.

“Anyway, the kid’s turning twenty-five soon and I never managed to find any other trainees that showed promise, so I thought I’d sign him as a solo artist. We’re planning for his debut to be in about three months,” Ken continued.

“That’s good, but why did you want me to come in?” you asked.

“Leo’s got a killer voice and he’s got about thirty demo tracks of his own compositions. We’re going to include some of those songs on his debut single, but…”

“But?” you egged Ken on when he trailed off. Ken shook his head, looking as if he was collecting himself.

“Ravi had a few songs he’d written but hadn’t gotten a chance to produce before the accident,” Ken started again.

“So you want my permission to use them? Didn’t the rights to those things pass to the label? You don’t need my permission,” you interrupted him, guessing where he was going.

“Actually, I’d like you to feature in a prerelease track with Leo,” Ken corrected you. Your heart felt like it stopped, every fiber in your being tensing up at the proposition.

“Ken, I haven’t sung properly in almost _four years_ ,” you squeaked out. Ken held his hand up.

“I know, but you’re voice was fucking fantastic back then, and I’m sure with a bit of coaching we can get it back up enough to record a song,” Ken insisted.

“Ken—“

“The female part was written for your voice. And I really do think this song should be put out. It was the last one he wrote.” You slumped back in your chair, sighing.

“Fine.”

-.-.-.-.-

You bustled around the kitchen, almost dead on your feet after the full day of vocal training you’d done. Your lung capacity had shriveled terribly, and they were working you hard to try to build that back up so you could sing the song properly. It’d been two weeks since you’d agreed to sing the song with Leo. When you’d heard it, you cried, instantly recognizing the significance in the lyrics. It was probably something he’d written for a special occasion because he was cheesy like that. You spent your days going in to the studio to practice and train your voice. You’d learned the song well enough already, but Ken was holding off recording for a little while longer.

“Should I help with the chores around the house? Would you like me to cook dinner for you?” Hongbin asked, breaking you out of your sleepy thoughts. You turned to him, a bit surprised that he’d come into the kitchen from the living room, where you’d left him in front of the TV.

“No, it’s fine,” you refused, smiling.

“But you’re working now, aren’t you? You’re gone most of the day, but you still do all of the chores,” Hongbin argued. You straightened your posture, surprised he was arguing with you. “You look tired all the time. Let me help around the house. I want to be useful to you.” You sighed, supposing now that you were busy, you _could_ use the help around the house.

“How about I teach you how to do the laundry and the dishes?” you offered. He smiled wide, brightening up.

“I’m so glad I can be useful to you, Mistress.”

-.-.-.-

Hongbin kept the apartment cleaner than you’d ever managed to. After you’d taught him how to clean the house up the way you wanted, you caught him cleaning everyday. He was thorough. Your clothes were always pressed properly and folded neatly in the drawers. The floors shined. No dust to be found. Dishes were always put up. The counters almost sparkled.

Eventually, you caved and began to teach him how to cook. He always seemed to enjoy that time with you each night, following you around the kitchen with the biggest smile and making cute faces as he tried to follow your instructions. Teaching him how to beat eggs had been the most amusing. It took him flinging several eggs around the kitchen to get the right wrist movement and pressure not to fling the eggs out of the bowl. You’d almost busted a gut laughing at him and had a grand time playing around with the spilt eggs, smearing them all over Hongbin and coaxing him into playing back.

After your meals were made, he’d help you carry everything over to the table and sat down across from you. When you’d first brought him home, he would quietly watch you eat or sit in the living room watching TV, but now that you were going out often, he dared to ask a single, simple question: “What did you do today?” Your answers were always similar–work with the vocal trainers, practice with Leo, spy on the other artists at the label.

After you finished telling him, you always followed up by asking Hongbin what _he_ did. The simple question always put a smile on his face. His answer was always exactly the same, a simple list of all the chores he did that day and how he settled down in front of the TV after he was finished, yet being able to express that seemed to bring him a childlike joy. The TV dramas _definitely_ seemed to be helping him.

-.-.-.-

Five weeks after starting with the vocal trainers, Ken decided it was time to record the track. Going into the recording booth was nerve wracking–you hadn’t properly recorded in years. The process was frustrating, Ken and Leo calling for you to redo the lines over and over, but after a few hours of recording, you’d managed to appease both of them. Leo entered the booth after you, expression blank. You’d heard him sing countless times over the last few weeks, but his voice never failed to surprise you. He was so emotive while singing, and though he had somethings to work on tonally, he was able to easily finish recording for the song in half the time you’d taken.

The trip home that day was quiet. Your involvement in the production of the track was done for the time being. It would be mastered within the week and sent to you for final approval before the label released it three weeks before Leo’s official debut with a music video he’d act in. In the meantime, you were to think about how you would answer the media questions–there was no way they wouldn’t ask about Wonsik, about how you felt singing his songs again. The thoughts were weighing you down in a way you hadn’t felt for a few months. Facing the press would be the hardest part of this project.

You let your feet carry you home, mind stuck on how to even initially react to any questions related to Wonsik. You arrived home before you realized you’d even gotten that far, a weak, “I’m home,” tumbling off your lips as you took off your shoes. Hongbin ambled out of the kitchen, a large grin on his face and an apron tied around his waist.

“Mistress, congratulations on finishing recording!” he greeted, reaching around to his back and took off his apron. You blinked a few times, regaining yourself in the present. “I made dinner for you to celebrate.” He’d made dinner already? By himself? You felt your jaw go slack as you mulled over his words.

“D-dinner?” you finally managed lamely. Hongbin’s grin grew to show teeth and he stepped forward to take your hand.

“If you don’t eat it soon, it’ll get cold,” he encouraged, gently tugging you further into the apartment. You nodded dumbly, letting him lead you into the kitchen where he’d laid out a full dinner–several of the dishes ones you’d never taught him how to make.

“Where did you learn to make these?” you asked, stepping towards the table. Hongbin let your hand go and crossed to his normal seat but didn’t sit.

“The other day, I flipped through the TV channels and stumbled across a cooking show. The dishes looked like something you’d like to eat, so I thought I’d try making them,” Hongbin explained. “Do you not like something?” You shook your head.

“No, it all looks delicious. I’m just surprised that you did this all by yourself. You’re a quick learner.” You stepped around to your chair and sat down, Hongbin copying your action.

“I hope you like it.” You silently seconded that hope, taking a bite of the food. You paused, the flavor washing over you. You swallowed and grabbed your glass of water to wash it down.

“Hongbin,” you said once the taste was gone, “did you make sure you grabbed the _salt_ instead of sugar?” Hongbin’s eyes went wide.

“Salt is in the jar with the green lid,” Hongbin said, eyes remaining wide despite his voice being flat.

“It’s in the jar with the _pink_ lid,” you corrected him. His face dissolved into horror and he lifted his hands up to cover his face.

“I’m very sorry, Mistress. I mixed up the notes when I created the file for cooking ingredients. I’ll fix them now,” he apologized.

“It’s ok. It’s not inedible, just–it’s a bit _sweeter_ than I was expecting,” you reassured him before taking another bite. Hongbin peeked at you through his fingers.

“I won’t make any mistakes next time,” he promised.

-.-.-.-

The doorbell rang and you immediately left the kitchen to get it, leaving Hongbin behind to finish setting the table. You’d been busy for the last few hours getting Hongbin dressed up and cooking. N had suggested that you have a small dinner party so he and Ken could meet Hongbin–”Because you can’t help mentioning him whenever we talk”. It was the first time you were having guests over in a long while, so you were nervous. Not so much because of the state of the apartment (Hongbin kept it cleaner than it had ever been when Wonsik was alive), but more because it’d been a while since you were a hostess and were worried about how they would respond to Hongbin.

You stepped into the entranceway of the apartment, pulling open the door. N broke into a wide grin when he saw you, well worn smile lines crinkling with genuineness. He’d cut his hair shorter since the last time you’d seen him, making the peppering of his hair more obvious. He’d said something about how he looked good with grey hair when Ken had asked him why he didn’t dye his hair to cover it a few years ago. N spread his arms and pulled you into a hug.

“It’s been too long,” N said, squeezing you tight before letting you go and smiling down at you.

“It has,” you agreed, smiling back at him. Ken cleared his throat behind N.

“You’re forgetting someone,” Ken joked as you stepped aside and let N enter the apartment. Ken caught your hand and squeezed it. “It’s good to see you outside the company.” Your eyes flittered behind Ken, catching sight of Leo. You hadn’t actually expected him to accept the invitation to come since he never seemed to care for you much. Ken leaned in close and whispered, “He’s more excited to be here than he looks,” before slipping past you to take his shoes off. You turned to Leo more fully.

“Thank you for inviting me over,” Leo greeted as he gave you a low bow, face as carefully blank as ever.

“No, no, thank you for coming,” you said, stepping forward slightly to try to bring him out of his bow quicker. He straightened, looking deep into your eyes. The silence was awkward, so you shrank back and motioned towards Ken and N. “Please, come in.” Leo nodded and entered, toeing his shoes off before he entered the house fully.

“So, where’s this Hongbin you keep talking about?” N asked, craning his neck to look around the apartment.

“Ah! Right,” you exclaimed, closing the door and moving past your guests. “He’s finishing the table,” you explained, leading them to the dining area. When you entered the room, Hongbin straightened, abandoning the plates he was setting out. “Hongbin, these are Wonsik’s friends, Ken and N,” you introduced, pointing to each as you named them. “And this is Leo, the man I’ve been working with.” Hongbin stepped around the table, coming closer to you.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” he said with a bright smile and bowing. As he came back up, he introduced himself, “I’m Hongbin.” Ken stepped up to Hongbin, looking him over with a critical eye.

“He’s really good looking. Never seen a PADoll that looked as good as him before,” Ken commented, Hongbin watching his movements with a blank face. “I can see why you chose him.”

“You know I don’t care so much about looks,” you denied, stepping forward to hit Ken playfully on the arm. He grinned at you, letting you know he was just joking.

“Oh we know. You wouldn’t have married an old fart like Ravi if you had,” N joked, stepping forward to get a better look at Hongbin as well. You jabbed N harder in the arm for that comment, though you knew he meant it in good jest–he was _older_ than Wonsik, after all. He laughed, reaching out and gripping your arm reassuringly.

“It’s good to finally meet you, Hongbin,” Ken greeted, reaching out to shake Hongbin’s hand. Hongbin’s expression brightened at the greeting.

“Mr. Ken,” he acknowledged. N untangled himself from you and went over to Hongbin, clapping his hands on Hongbin’s arm as he looked him over.

“I’ve heard quite a bit about you,” N said. “It’s good to match a face with the name.”

“Mr. N,” Hongbin acknowledged, turning his head to look at N. You let out a sigh of relief. They were taking to him well so far.

“He’s been doing a good job, I assume? Not causing you too many problems?” N asked, looking over at you.

“Oh no, not at all. He’s actually been a tremendous help around here. It’s not so lonely anymore,” you replied, giving Hongbin a smile. Hongbin beamed back at you. You glanced over at Leo; he hadn’t moved much from the doorway and was staring at the food on the table behind Hongbin. “Should we go ahead and eat before it gets any colder?” you suggested, Leo’s attention snapping to you at the words.

“Let me finish setting the table,” Hongbin said, slipping away from N. It seemed like this dinner party would go well after all.

-.-.-.-

It was pouring so hard outside that the rain sounded like the air conditioning unit on full blast. You pulled the blanket you’d draped over your shoulders tighter to your body as you shuffled down the hallway. You made your way into Hongbin’s room, not bothering to knock since you knew he was in the kitchen fixing lunch. You made your way over to the bookcase full of photos and picked up your favorite picture of Wonsik.

It was a day like this the accident happened. Heavy downpour from a short lived thunderstorm caused a car in the left lane to hydroplane and crash into Wonsik’s car on the highway. He’d been on his way to eat lunch with N when it’d happened. Had been the only casualty in the accident. Snapped neck. Instant death.

You felt tears roll down your cheeks before you even registered the burn of them welling in your eyes. It’d been well over a year since he’d passed, but it still stung terribly. You’d been almost catatonic until after his forty days memorial service, only making it that far thanks to Ken and N. Each day you regained a little more strength to go out and face the world, but the gaping hole that’d been left in your heart never managed to close even the slightest bit. When you married him, you’d already prepared yourself for the possibility of losing him one day since he was already over fifty, but you never expected that he’d pass barely two years after getting married, after just three years together in total.

Days with heavy rain always set you back. You hadn’t even been worried when he left for work that morning, had barely been able to give him a proper goodbye because he was in a rush to get out the door. Now all you had left of him were his music, his things, and these pictures. You pulled the photo under your blanket and clenched it to your chest, wrapping yourself tight in the blanket. The tears came harder, making it difficult to stand. You lowered to the ground, squeezing the photoframe even tighter.

Everything seemed too much lately. Between singing Wonsik’s song and preparing for the press meeting, you were drowning in thoughts of Wonsik. It was to the point that you were starting to dream about him again. You weren’t ready to face the media yet. You weren’t ready to discuss his death openly to the public. There was no way they _wouldn’t_ ask, and you didn’t want to answer yet.

“Mistress?” Hongbin’s voice broke the silence of the room. Your breath hitched in a sob. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him. “Mistress, lunch is ready.”

“I’m… I’m not really–hungry right now,” you barely managed. “L-later…”

“Mistress?” Hongbin asked again, voice closer this time. You shook your head, ignoring him. His clothes rustled as he kneeled down beside you.

“I-I–C-ca–” you attempted to ward him off, only for your words to get jumbled. Hongbin reached out and nudged your chin up gently so he could look at you, but you couldn’t make his face out very well through your tears. He leaned closer and you weren’t quite sure why. You leaned away from him, almost reaching up out of your blanket to push him back. He swooped in, lips pressing just below your eye over the tear track, soft and smooth in a way that was eerily human.

“Why are you crying?” he asked, voice low and neutral, lips hovering just over your skin. The action shocked you so much you couldn’t move. He pulled back slightly and kissed under your other eye. “Won’t you tell me?” He pulled back again and tilted his head, leaning in as if he was going for your lips. Realizing what he was about to do, you snapped out of your stupor and pushed him away.

“W-what are you doing?” you asked, horrified, voice cracking. He looked back at you, eyes wide and eyebrows raised in shock, an expression you weren’t used to seeing on his face.

“That’s not the right response in this kind of situation?” You felt yourself flushing, so shocked that your tears stopped. Despite his shocked expression, his voice held the same even tone it always did.

“M-maybe I n-need to monitor what you’re watching… I-I think I m-might be letting you w-watch too many dramas,” you mumbled, reaching up to wipe your tears away, keeping a firm grip on the photo with your other hand.

“So that’s not the right response in this kind of situation?”

“No, not really, but it’s fine…” you sighed. Sniffling, you rubbed at your eyes again. “The fact that you tried to cheer me up was enough.”

“But why were you crying? I don’t understand,” Hongbin asked again.

“Just… just remembering Wonsik,” you murmured, hand shaking with the force you gripped the photoframe and tears threatening to spill again.

“Mr. Wonsik?”

“Mmm. He…” You took a deep breath. “He passed away on a day like this,” you explained, lowering the photo down to look at it again. Two years _wasn’t_ enough. A tear spilled down your cheek and Hongbin wrapped his arm around you, pulling you in close and hugging you.

“I’ll reheat lunch whenever you want to eat it, Mistress,” Hongbin stated, voice quiet but even. He didn’t say a word after that and just held you, for which you were more than grateful.

-.-.-.-

You shuffled around nervously back stage. The press conference would start soon and Leo was getting the finishing touches put on his makeup. You went over the answers you’d prepared for several possible questions over and over again as you paced. You didn’t feel ready at all. It had been raining all week and– Leo grabbed your arm, pulling you to a halt. You looked up at him only to instantly avert your gaze from his piercing stare. He grabbed your other arm and made you face him again.

“Take a deep breath,” he ordered and you obeyed. “I’m nervous too, but it’ll be fine,” he reassured you. You nodded and he patted your arm before he let go and stepped away to the edge of the stage in an attempt to see the small crowd out there. One of the staff motioned that it was time. You took another deep breath and stepped over to Leo.

-.-.-.-

You tumbled into your apartment, more than a little tipsy from drinking after dinner. After the press meeting about Leo’s upcoming debut ( it had turned out to be a small affair with only a few news outlets, most of which were there for you), you’d gone out with Ken and Leo for dinner and drinks. Though you made it through the questions about Wonsik and his music without incident, it’d left your heart heavy. You probably shouldn’t have had the last two drinks, but all you wanted was to drink more.

“Welcome home, Mistress,” Hongbin chimed, coming to the front door from the living room with a wide grin on his face. You could hear the TV, so you guessed he’d been watching dramas while waiting for you.

“I’m home,” you slurred, slipping your shoes off and stepping into the apartment. You brushed past Hongbin and headed to the kitchen, opening the fridge to get a can of beer. Once you’d procured it, you wandered to the living room, sinking down to sit at the coffee table. Hongbin followed you and sat down next to you, eyes trained on you and grin still fixed to his lips.

“How was the press conference?” he asked, expression bright and voice light.

“It went well,” you murmured, forcing a smile as you popped your beer can open. “I think they asked me more questions than they asked Leo.”

“Why did they do that?” Hongbin asked, brows knitting. You took a sip of your beer before answering him.

“About seven years ago, I debuted in a girl group. We were somewhat successful then and they’re fairly popular even now, so people are curious if this is a sign that I’m coming back as a solo artist.” You finished with a big gulp of beer. “That and they were curious about Wonsik…”

“That must have been difficult,” Hongbin said, expression turning apologetic and voice becoming slightly deeper. You stared at him, finding the concern in his expression odd. You lifted your beer to you lips and took another big gulp without breaking eye contact.

“It was,” you replied. “I miss Wonsik.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t help you better,” Hongbin said, eyes dropping away from your face as he reached out to rub your back. You squinted at him, trying to decipher his expression. His brows were knit, troubled looking, but his lips were frowning–no, pouting. The curve his lips was cute, odd, and the longer you stared, the more an idiotic idea chewed at your brain.

You caved to your impulse. You kissed him. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you knew it was a bad idea, but you did anyway. His lips were so soft, so supple, making it easy to forget they weren’t real. Lately it was getting easier and easier to forget, and the drinks you had helped that little fact slip far away to the back of your mind. His lips parted and you deepened the kiss, easily losing yourself in it. You crawled into his lap, arms snaking around his neck as you tried to deepen it even more. He found your waist and pulled you tighter to his hard body. You shivered, overcome with the need for attention, for intimate touches.

“Fuck me,” you panted, breaking the kiss.

“Mistress?” Hongbin asked, unmoving.

“Fuck me,” you repeated, bordering on a whine. “You can do that right? Fuck me. Fuck me like my Wonsikie.”

“I don’t know how Mr. Wonsik used to have sex,” Hongbin retorted, voice even as always. You ground your hips down on his.

“Doesn’t matter, just fuck me.”

“Yes, Mistress,” Hongbin agreed, voice neutral and expression serious. You pulled him in for another kiss, pulling him close as his hands began to wander your body awkwardly. He wasn’t Wonsik, but for tonight he’d do.

-.-.-.-

Come morning your head throbbed painfully and your body ached. Rolling over, you cracked your eyes open, coming face to face with Hongbin. You squeezed your eyes shut again, trying to figure out just _why_ he was beside you. Little by little it all came back. The stressful interview, the drinking, stupidly giving into your impulses again, the gentleness of Hongbin’s touch, the way he cradled you against his body as he thrust into you, the feel of his lips on your neck.

You regretted it.

You regretted it deeply.

You’d never intended to go down that road with Hongbin, yet you did on impulse. Hongbin had been good, disturbingly so for being inexperienced, but it felt so _wrong_.  It felt like you’d cheated on Wonsik, like you’d used Hongbin. You fluttered your eyes open again, meeting Hongbin’s eyes. He smiled.

“Good morning, Mistress,” he whispered, reaching up to brush some hair out of your face.

“Morning,” you rasped out, shifting. You were still on the floor in the living room but you had a blanket draped over you and a pillow under your head. “Did you…”

“You looked cold,” Hongbin explained. “I didn’t want to wake you by moving you. Should I have moved you to your bed?” You looked down at the blanket and pulled it in close to your body.

“No, this was good. Thank you.” Hongbin’s smile widened at your thanks. He sat up and looked down at you, maintaining his grin. He’d put his pants back on, but you were still naked under the blanket.

“I’ll go make you breakfast.”

“Hongbin.” You grabbed his arm before he could get up.

“Mistress?” His smile shrank as uncertainty set in.

“I’m sorry for last night. I–” you apologized, breaking off to figure out how to word it. “I hadn’t planned to do those kind of things with you.”

“I don’t understand,” Hongbin stated, tilting his head to the side, smile completely gone.

“Last night I– I used you. I’m sorry.”

“I still don’t understand.” Hongbin blinked at you, expression empty.

“I did something horrible to you, so I’m apologizing,” you explained.

“You were sad last night and asked me to comfort you. If it made you feel better, then I’m happy,” Hongbin insisted, his smile starting to return. You shook your head.

“What I did was _not_ ok. I made a rash and stupid decision and–” You broke off and took a deep breath. “You should never feel like you have to do things like that to make me feel better.”

“So what we did was not ok?” Hongbin asked, eyes searching your face.

“It wasn’t,” you asserted. “You can say no in situations like that.”

“But I want to make you feel better,” Hongbin said, reaching out for your cheek, brows knit in concern.

“I _don’t_ feel better. I feel horrible,” you confessed. Hongbin’s expression fell neutral and he retracted his hand.

“I understand, Mistress. Next time I’ll say no.” Hongbin shifted away from you and stood up. “Do you want vanilla or chocolate in your coffee this morning?” Taken aback by the sudden shift in his behavior and topic, your words failed you again.

“N-neither,” you weakly managed after a few seconds of trying. Hongbin nodded.

“Black then.” He turned away and headed towards the kitchen. As he walked away, you couldn’t help but feel like you’d gone about that all wrong.

-.-.-.-

“ _Have you checked the charts today?”_ Ken asked over the phone. You shifted where you were seated in the living room. Hongbin was seated next to you, watching the TV while hooked up to his charge tower. Things had felt somewhat awkward between the two of you since that morning, but you were somehow muddling through the day.

“No, I haven’t,” you replied honestly.

“ _You and Leo **charted**_ ,” Ken said, his grin practically audible. You almost dropped the phone.

“ _What?!_ ” you almost screeched, not believe your ears at all. Hongbin snapped his attention to you, staring at you with his eyes wide open.

“ _It’s only number 100 on the singles chart today, but you **charted**. You fucking **charted**!_” Ken elaborated. You felt faint, were glad that you’d been sitting when he told you.

“Mistress?” Hongbin asked beside you, expression suddenly filled with worry.

“I-I charted. L-Leo and I made it into the top 100 digital singles chart today,” you explained to Hongbin, voice filled with disbelief. Hongbin stared at you for a few moments before he broke out into grin.

“You charted!!” He pulled you into a hug. “Mistress, that’s amazing!”

“ _It’s more than amazing!”_ Ken crackled over the phone. “ _You still have a fanbase and they’re crawling out of the woodworks for this.”_ You pushed away from Hongbin to listen better. _“There’s lots of positive comments online. Trash too, but–you **still** have fans.”_

“I thought I pissed everyone off when I quit to get married,” you mumbled, head spinning. The netizen reaction had been horrible when it was announced that you’d be leaving your group to marry Wonsik, who had written many songs for your group.

 _“Seems a lot of them have been hoping you’d returned to the scene. And it looks like newer fans of your old group are helping bolster the sales.”_ You dropped your eyes to the table as you let Ken’s words wash over you. Never in a million years would you have thought that you’d get that kind of support.

“ _I think you should make a comeback as a solo artist. Put out a mini album. You’ve got a fan base and the voice to get you started, and Wonsik’s connections in the industry. We can make this happen,”_ Ken continued rambling, causing you to snap your gaze up.

“Comeback as a solo artist?” you asked, not believing what he was saying. “K-Ken, I–”

 _“You’ve got the talent and the fan base,”_ Ken interrupted you, “ _And you’ve been looking for more steady work. Not to mention you’ve already started with the vocal trainers again.”_ You fell silent, mulling over the idea.

“You really think I can make it as a solo artist?” you asked, voice feeling incredibly small.

“ _I do. Hell, I’ll produce you myself. That’s how much potential I see in this right now_ ,” Ken asserted.

“Write up a contract,” you agreed, just going with it. Returning to singing–it wasn’t something you had seriously considered after the reaction you’d gotten from your fans when you quit, but it felt more natural than any of the other options you’d tried.

-.-.-.-

“ _I’m going to drop by sometime this week to get some of my dad’s things,”_ Hyuk’s voice crackled over your voicemail. You squeezed your eyes shut, pinching the bridge of your nose. He’d hung up after leaving the message, not even bothering to tell you what he wanted to take or giving you a time frame in the day to expect him. He probably did that on purpose to work you up more, knowing it would wear you down before he got there. He was so _bitter_ towards you.

When the voicemail prompted you to take an action, you deleted the message and exited your voicemail. With an exasperated sigh, you slumped down onto the coffee table, arms out stretched, and stared at your phone. Hyuk always had great timing when it came to being a pain. He’d probably heard about the song you’d recorded with Leo and decided to rub salt in your wounds.

He’d _never_ liked you and had moved in with his aunt, Jiwon, when you got married to Wonsik. He was living by himself now, in an apartment that Wonsik had bought for him to use while he was in college. Hyuk had gotten what Wonsik hadn’t specified for charity or you, leaving him better off than you were. Still, he seemed to resent that you’d gotten anything from Wonsik–especially the shares of the label. Hyuk seemed to want to follow in his father’s footsteps as a music producer, and the fact that Wonsik had left his label share to _you_ instead of him was just another bullet on the list of reasons he didn’t like you.

What was he going to take this time? The last time he’d raided the apartment, he’d taken a large chunk of Wonsik’s CD collection and several of his books from the office. You hadn’t wanted to part with them, but at the same time, you couldn’t deny Hyuk those things because he was Wonsik’s _son_ and you knew that Wonsik would have let him have those things had he been alive. Wonsik had loved Hyuk deeply, had been convinced that Hyuk would come around to you eventually. You always hoped that would be the case, so you held out. You wouldn’t give him the shares in the label, but you also wouldn’t stoop down to his petty level.

“Mistress?” Hongbin inquired, drawing you out of your thoughts. “Are you ok? You’ve been staring at your phone for a while.” You looked up at him, realizing he’d turned the TV off and was giving you his full attention. You sat up and slipped your phone back into your pocket as you decided just how much you wanted to tell Hongbin.

“Hyuk’ll be coming by sometime this week to get some of Wonsik’s things,” you decided to tell him. If he asked further, you could just avoid the questions.

“So I’ll be able to meet him after all?” Hongbin asked, seeming to perk up some. You looked away from him.

“You’ll get to see him, but I doubt he’ll be here long. Fifteen minutes at the most,” you sighed, running a hand through your hair.

“Ah, I see.” Hongbin seemed almost disappointed, but you didn’t want to tell him that it was probably a good thing that Hyuk wouldn’t stay long. You absolutely dreaded coming face to face with him.

-.-.-.-

The doorbell rang, signaling the arrival of the person you wanted to see least. You heaved a sigh, placing your pen down on top of the music Ken had given you to go over. You ran your hand through your hair, clenching your eyes shut as you gathered the will to get up and answer the door.

“Mistress?” Hongbin questioned, drawing your attention. “Are you going to answer the door?” His brows were knit slightly in confusion, probably not understanding why you seemingly ignored the door.

“I don’t want to, but I will,” you grumbled, the doorbell ringing again in the background.

“If you don’t want to, I can answer it,” Hongbin offered, expression turning mildly concern. You shook your head and pushed yourself to your feet.

“I’ll get it, wait here,” you insisted.

“Yes, Mistress,” Hongbin responded.

You left him in the living room and made your way to the door. You bulked once your hand was on the doorknob, _really_ not wanting to face Hyuk. He’d _never_ approved of you and Wonshik getting married. He was only nineteen when his father died, his rebellious years in full swing. Your closeness in age was most likely a contributing factor to why he disliked you so much. You took a deep breath, steadying your nerves once more, then pulled the door open just as Hyuk rang the bell a third time.

“I was starting to think you weren’t here,” Hyuk said flatly, meeting your eyes. You could tell he didn’t want to see you as much as you didn’t want to see him.

“You didn’t specify when you were coming. I wasn’t expecting you today,” you retorted, careful to keep your voice as neutral as possible.

“I didn’t think it mattered _when_ I dropped by, seeing as you don’t work,” Hyuk deadpanned, stepping forward. You dazedly moved out of his way, his words every bit as painful as he’d intended them to be. It wasn’t like you hadn’t been _trying_ to get steady work, you just weren’t successful until Ken offered to produce you as a singer again.

“What did you want to take?” you asked, snapping out of your thoughts and turning to look at him more fully. He was already halfway to Hongbin’s–Wonsik’s–room, shoes still on and tracking dirt into the apartment.

“Some of Dad’s books and his pictures,” Hyuk said offhandedly, pushing the door to Wonsik’s room open. He paused in the doorway, expression growing angry. “You’re letting someone _live_ in Dad’s room?” he practically spat, looking back at you. Your chest clenched and you fumbled for words but your mind went blank.

“Is everything ok?” Hongbin asked, his voice drawing your eyes away from Hyuk. He was standing just inside the living room, head poking out to the hall.

“Who is this guy?” Hyuk asked, disgust dripping from his voice. You opened your mouth to explain, but words failed you again. You didn’t know how to explain Hongbin.

“I’m Hongbin,” Hongbin answered, stepping out into the hall and bowing before you could manage to get anything out. “You’re Mr. Hyuk, correct? It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.” Hyuk’s eyes flitted between you and Hongbin, expression growing darker.

“You _bought_ a _PADoll_?” Hyuk asked, horrified.

“I–I did,” you stuttered, closing the front door and stepping further inside your apartment.

“You _actually_ spent Dad’s money on a _fuck doll_?” Hyuk pressed. Sensing the situation was going downhill fast, you put yourself between Hyuk and Hongbin.

“Mistress?” Hongbin asked, voice slightly concerned sounding.

“Go back into the living room, Hongbin,” you ordered, looking over your shoulder at him. You didn’t want to chance anything happening to him, especially considering how Hyuk was reacting at the moment. Hyuk was here to take more of Wonsik from you, and the last thing you needed was for him to hurt Hongbin too. Hongbin gave you a puzzled look but stepped back into the living room. You turned back to Hyuk. “I didn’t get him for sex, and what I do with the money is _my_ business, not yours,” you countered Hyuk weakly.

“You really think it isn’t my business?” Hyuk asked, stepping towards you. You puffed yourself up and held your ground. “You weren’t even part of Dad’s life when he made ninety percent of that money. He made that money to support _his family_ before Mom died.” You grimaced at the verbal blow. Wonsik still cared for his first wife deeply until the day he died. He always told you that she wouldn’t have wanted him to be all alone, but Hyuk didn’t feel the same way; he never missed a chance to make it absolutely clear to you that you were the _second_ wife.

“He married me, Hyuk. I’m entitled to part of the inheritance, and what I do with it is _my_ business,” you insisted. Hyuk rolled his eyes and turned away, ducking into Wonsik’s room. Your feet propelled you down the hallway and into the room behind him before you could even think about it, worry pulsing through to you to your bones. Hyuk opened the duffle bag he’d brought with him and began tossing the photos that were on the bookcase inside, leaving the only two pictures of you alone.

“You’re taking all of them?” you asked, voice trembling. Those pictures were the only ones you had of Wonsik besides your wedding album. You didn’t look at them often, but they meant the _world_ to you. Hyuk paused, looking over at you then flickering his glare behind you.

“It’s not like you’ll need them with _him_ here,” Hyuk sniped. His hand landed on your favorite picture of Wonsik and you were moving again before you knew it.

“Take as many as you want, just _please_ leave me some,” you blurted out, tears welling in your eyes in panic. You grabbed his wrist before he could drop the photo into his bag, pouring all your strength into pulling his hand away from it. Hyuk shook you off, the force causing you to stumble back. Before you knew what was happening, Hongbin was between you, gripping Hyuk’s wrist in your place.

“Mr. Hyuk, please, at least leave this one,” Hongbin requested.

“Let go of me,” Hyuk warned, looking Hongbin in the eye.

“Please, Mr. Hyuk–” Hyuk began to struggle but Hongbin held on tight. It wasn’t until Hyuk dropped the frame and punched Hongbin in the face that he was able to get free, the glass of the frame shattering when it hit the ground. Hongbin stumbled back, dazed, face going blank. Hyuk grabbed an empty shelf and ripped it from the bookcase. You moved to get between them, but Hyuk was faster. “Vision at ninety-seven per–” Hongbin crashed into the floor along with splintered fragments of wood, movement stopping all together.

“Hongbin?” you called out tentatively, voice trembling, panicking to the core. When he didn’t react, you shuffled towards him–freezing when you noticed the remains of the broken shelf in Hyuk’s hands.

“The fact that you spent Dad’s money on something like that is disgusting,” Hyuk growled. “It’s _insulting_.” He faced you and you stumbled back, terrified that he’d go for you next. “You can’t replace Dad with a robot. And the fact that you tried is despicable. You don’t _deserve_ _anything_ he left you.”

“I-I’m not trying to replace him…” you squeaked out, keeping your eyes locked on the broken shelf.

“Please. Everyone _knows_ the only reason anyone gets a PADoll is to live out their perverted fantasies,” Hyuk spat, dropping the shelf and turning back to the bookcase. He knocked the rest of the photos into his bag. You wanted to object again, but he was angry enough that you weren’t sure what he’d do. As soon as he’d cleared the last shelf, he stormed past you without another word, no doubt headed for Wonsik’s office to raid the albums and bookshelves there. You didn’t dare follow him, the damage he’d in the bedroom already too much for you to keep yourself together.

“Hongbin?” you called out tentatively, but he still didn’t move. “Hongbin, give me a damage report…” Still, no movement. You went to his side and crouched down, moving the broken pieces of wood away. Your hand trembled as you got a good look at him. The skin on his cheek was sliced open, exposing the sharply bent metal underneath that made up his cheekbone. His eyes were dim, staring unblinkingly across the room. “H-hongbin?”

You reached out to touch his face but quickly changed your mind. Instead, you went to his neck and removed the cover to the neck panel there, typing in the code for a forced restart. You waited thirty seconds, but still nothing. Tears welled in your eyes. You reached out and gently turned him to his back, taking extra care with his head. There was a sizable dent where his head connected with the floor.

“Critical error,” Hongbin suddenly said, lips not moving. “Cerebral systems damaged. Vision at 46% optimal efficiency. Facial motor functions unresponsive. Cerebral gyroscope unresponsive. Cerebral…” he continued to list off the damaged hardware but it was lost on your ears as the tears welling in your eyes started falling. This was bad. _Very_ bad. You couldn’t lose Hongbin too, couldn’t lose him after all he’d done to help pull you up recently, after he’d tried to protect you. The front door slammed, signaling that Hyuk had left. You sat back and scrambled for your phone. Shakily, you speed-dialed the first person that came to mind–

“ _Hello_?” Ken’s voice rang through the air, tone quite puzzled.

“K-Ken, c-can you take t-time o-off?” you stuttered, trying to get your panic under control.

“ _What’s_ _wrong?”_ Ken asked, voice turning concerned. “ _What’s_ _got_ _you_ _so_ _worked_ _up?”_

“I-it’s Hongbin. I need to take take him to the shop. H-Hyuk–”

“ _Hyuk?_ ” Ken cut you off. “ _Take a deep breath and tell me what happened the best you can._ ” You did as he asked, starting from the phone call you’d received. “ _That punk…_ ” Ken sighed when you finished. “ _I’m going to call N. We’ll be there soon, so gather your owner’s registration while you wait_.”

“Thank you, Ken,” you sniffled, wiping your tears away. Your initial panic was starting to wear off, leaving you exhausted and beyond distressed.

“ _You don’t have to thank me, it’s what friends do_ ,” Ken assured. “ _I’ll be there soon, ok?”_ You hummed in acknowledgement, lowering the phone after he hung up. You looked at the bookcase and a sob threatened to rack your body at the sight. All of Wonsik’s photos were gone–all but the lone one Hyuk had dropped to the floor.

-.-.-.-

N squeezed your hand as the doctor removed Hongbin’s face plate and put it to the side. The action was horrifying, terribly disconcerting. Everything under his hairline to behind his ears separated smoothy and rested on a tray, leaving the inner mechanics of his head exposed. Hongbin’s eyeless face stared hauntingly up at the ceiling as his faceless and naked body rested on in a mechanical cradle. The doctor hissed as he got a good look at the inside of Hongbin’s head. With a pair of rods, he began to poke around inside. After a few moments he stepped back and faced you.

“The damage to the cerebral hardware is pretty bad. About fifty-percent of it’ll need to be replaced,” the doctor explained. You squeezed N’s hand tighter. Even though N didn’t care much for PADolls, he’d been able to take off work longer than Ken and had volunteered to stay with you through the visit with the PADoll doctor. It had taken both N and Ken to carry Hongbin out to the car for how heavy he was.

“Will it be easy to fix?” you asked.

“It won’t be too difficult. Just a couple hours. Head injuries are rather common,” the doctor explained. “The hardware in the head is delicate, and even though the casing is made of a lightweight sheet of steel alloy, impacts to the head often cause damage–especially to the visual feed and the gyroscope. It’s inconvenient, but the hardware in the head isn’t critical. You don’t have to worry about any damage to his memory or personality. The most sensitive and important systems, like his memory storage and the computer that runs his decision making programs, are located in the chest and are very well protected.” You relaxed slightly at his words. Hongbin would be ok.

“Will it take long to fix him?” you asked.

“A couple hours at most. We have all the parts that he needs here except for a new silicon face mold. It’ll probably take a few weeks for a new one to come in since he’s custom. As for what can be done today, hammering out the dents will take the longest. Expense wise, you’re looking at a million won for the hardware and two hundred thousand for the face.”

“Do what you have to do to fix him,” you murmured.

“Right,” the doctor nodded and stepped over to a keyboard. He began typing and one of the screens on the back wall switched screens to an order form where the doctor input the list of parts he needed. Another screen on the wall began rapidly scrolling new code but the doctor ignored it.

“I’ll function optimally after these parts are replaced?” Hongbin suddenly asked, the unexpectedness causing you to jump. Though his face was removed and you could see the inner workings on his head, he was still _on_. You shivered, wondering how much of everything he’d been able grasp since you’d restarted him. The doctor hit a few keys on the keyboard then continued typing, his message not appearing on any screen. “That’s good,” Hongbin spoke again. The doctor turned to look at you with a sheepish smile.

“I forgot to mention that he’s still somewhat aware. His audio-visual input feeds were damaged, so I cut them off in preparation of opening him up, but he’s connected to my computer and guessed what was about to happen based on the parts I was ordering,” the doctor explained. Hongbin had been so unresponsive after he reported the damage to you that you thought he’d turned off. When the doctor hooked him up to the monitors and cradle, Hongbin had repeated the list of damages, but you didn’t think he was _aware_. You thought it had all been automatic reporting.

“The parts’ll be here soon. I’ll run some system updates in the mean time. If you don’t feel comfortable watching me work, you can wait in the waiting room,” The doctor continued after a pause. You dropped your eyes to Hongbin’s face then flitted over to his body. N squeezed your hand and patted it with his free one.

“Let’s go wait outside,” he suggested softly. You nodded.

“I’ll send an assistant for you when I’m done,” the doctor assured. “He’s in good hands, don’t worry.” You nodded again as N stood and offered his other hand to you. You took it and let him help you up and lead you out of the room. Once out in the hall, N stopped and faced you, bringing his hands up to your arms. He searched your face, his expression worried.

“Are you ok?” he asked.

“Today’s been a lot to deal with,” you murmured, dropping your gaze to the ground. Your tears had dried up during the car ride, but your mind was still reeling from what had happened at the apartment and the things you’d see in the check up room. “I think… I think I’ll be ok, though. As long as Hongbin is ok, I’ll make due…” N pulled you into a tight hug.

“When I see Hyuk, I’m going to rip him a new one. Wonsikkie didn’t raise him to be such a punk,” N grumbled, beginning to rock you.

“You don’t have to,” you mumbled into N’s chest. “It’s something between me and Hyuk. We need to properly sort it out ourselves.” N sighed and pulled back, ducking down so he could look in your eyes.

“He’s being an immature brat. He’s mad his dad decided to remarry, but Wonsik came back to life after he met you. He was happy for the first time in _years_. Hyuk needs to learn that it’s ok to move on,” N huffed.

“It’s ok to move on…” you repeated weakly.

“I think buying Hongbin was a good decision. Having him around has been _good_ for you,” N insisted. “And Hyuk doing what he did is inexcusable, no matter how much he dislikes you.”

“He scares me,” you admitted, attempting to move away from N.

“Then don’t face him alone. Let Ken and I help you.” You pulled away from him completely, nodding as you headed towards the waiting room, wanting the conversation to end.

-.-.-.-

The waiting room was full of PADolls and their owners waiting to get in to see the doctors. The vast majority of them were female models, and a few even seemed to be there on their own. The ones there with their owners tended to be engaged in quiet conversation with their owners, but a few PADolls read books or magazines as they waited. Their behavior was startlingly human, but as you looked at them, you couldn’t help thinking about what was under their face plates, the image of Hongbin’s inner workings burned to the back of your eyelids.

Someone called your name and you stood, heading towards the door where the assistant stood waiting for you, N following behind you. He’d started working again from his phone in the waiting room, but he’d attempted to keep up light conversation as you waited. You appreciated the fact that he’d stayed by your side even though he was so busy, especially since the only connection you had to him was your late husband. It left you vaguely guilty feeling, but you knew he wouldn’t have left your side even if you’d told him it was ok.

The assistant led you back to the room you’d left Hongbin and the doctor in. As you stepped into the room, the cradle swung so that Hongbin was in a standing position, the doctor on the far side of the room with the keyboard. The doctor motioned for you to enter the room more fully and you followed his instructions, wringing your hands nervously. N placed his hand on your shoulder in reassurance. Hongbin’s eyes snapped open and you could see the code on the screen on the wall scrolling rapidly.

“System restart successful,” Hongbin said. “System update 6.8.23 successfully installed. All systems operating at optimal efficiency.” He paused, blinking. His eyes scanned the room, halting when they fell on you. He broke out into a large grin. “Good morning, Mistress.”

“It’s not morning, silly,” you retorted, a teary smile pulling on your own lips as it washed over you that he was really going to be already.

“His new face will be in in a week or so. We’ll give you a call when it arrives and schedule an appointment,” The doctor said, stepping around the keyboard to unfasten Hongbin from the cradle and disconnect the the two cables that were connected to the panel on the back of his neck. Once freed, Hongbin stepped down and lifted his hand to his cheek, inspecting the split silicon there.

“I’m sorry I caused you so much trouble, Mistress,” Hongbin apologized, gaze falling back on you. You shook your head, crossing the room to hug him.

“You didn’t cause any problems. I’m just glad you’re ok,” you assured him. Hongbin hugged you back. “Let’s go home.”

“I’d like that,” Hongbin agreed.

You waited for Hongbin to get redressed, thanked the doctor, paid and left, N accompanying you on the train ride back to your apartment. Once you were back, Hongbin wandered the apartment, looking around. When you asked him what he was doing, he simply stated that he wanted to know exactly what Hyuk had taken from the apartment. You pursed your lips at that, but let him do what he wanted, following him when he went into his room. He stopped and stared at the empty bookshelf and the mess on the floor.

“I’m sorry, Mistress,” Hongbin said, bending down and picking up the lone frame on the floor. “I couldn’t protect Mr. Wonsik.” He stood back up, picking the broken glass out of the frame before turning around and offering the picture to you. “At least this one is left.” You felt your lip tremble as tears welled up again.

“Forget the pictures,” you choked out, closing the distance between you and pulling him into a hug.

“Mistress?” Hongbin asked in confusion.

“A-as much as those pictures m-meant to me, you’re important too.”

“But I’m not Mr. Wonsik,” Hongbin protested, still confused.

“You don’t have to be Wonsik to be important to me,” you stressed, hugging him tighter. “Thank you for trying to protect my pictures of Wonsik, but please don’t put yourself in danger again. When I thought I was going to lose you too, I– Just please don’t put yourself in danger again.”

“I understand, Mistress,” Hongbin said as he hesitantly wrapped his arms around you, pressing the photo frame to your back. The fact that the pictures were gone left a giant hole in your heart, but Hongbin was ok. N was right; buying Hongbin had probably been good for you. He wasn’t a replacement for Wonsik, but something to help you make it through the day, someone to keep you from being lonely, and it had been working, as rocky as the road had been. He wasn’t Wonsik, but he didn’t have to be. Surely, with Hongbin, you could learn to live again.


End file.
